Breathless
by thegirlofthoughts
Summary: Seven days. Waiting. Hoping. Dreading. Living. Dying. Sleeping. Waking. Torture. Bliss. Free. Trapped. Giants. Tiny. Light. Darkness. Knowledge. Uncertainty. Swords. Scratches. Seeds. In. Out. In. Out. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Nico spent seven days in that bronze jar. Only seven days. It felt like eternity. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**New story! Percy Jackson! Yay!**

 **So, yes, I do actually look at poll results. And it seems like only one person has voted (if I'm completely wrong, sorry), so I decided to go ahead and post one of their choices. This is one of my favorite stories, and I really enjoyed writing it. The next chapter was probably my favorite writing because of the descriptiveness and detail.**

 **Also, I just now had the idea of writing another story describing Nico's time in Tartarus, or at least my guess of what it was like. It would take a while, especially since it would be a completely new story and I haven't read The House of Hades in a while. What do you guys think?**

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Nico thought he had been through enough torture already. He had been through the worst, but if he thought it was over, he was wrong. He was so, so wrong.

He couldn't help but feel relieved as the monsters dragged him out of the Doors of Death. He was out of Tartarus. He didn't know where he was now, and he didn't really care. He was in the land of mortals now. He was out of Tartarus.

He felt darkness bend around him as someone shadow traveled them away. When he could see again, he knew instinctively that he was still underground. His "escort" still had him by the arms. There were two giants in front of him. He searched his almost broken mind for their identity. The only giants he knew that came in a pair were the twins Otis and Ephialtes. What did they want with him?

His escort shoved him roughly toward the twins, and he stumbled. He was still weak and tired from his time in Tartarus and could barely keep himself upright.

"Look what we got here," one of the giants said, smirking.

"Mother Gaea will be so pleased," the other agreed. "Do you have the jar ready?"

"Of course." The first one reached behind him and pulled out a human-sized bronze jar.

Suddenly, Nico felt a large hand around his waist. While he was watching one of the twins bring out the jar, the other had stepped forward and grabbed him. The son of Hades didn't have time to think before he was practically thrown in the jar and had the lid sealed on it.

His survival instincts, the ones he had relied on and were the only things that kept him alive in Tartarus, were kicking in. He knew that the lid was airtight and that he would quickly run out of oxygen. He didn't have long, not long enough for someone to come and save him. But he did have something that could buy him some more time, which he suspected was the enemy's plan all along.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out seven pomegranate seeds. He had roughly seven days. As he laid the seeds out and set down his sword after making a long scratch in the glass to signify the first day here, he could only hope that Percy and the others would be able to save him in time.

Nico slipped the first seed in his mouth and put himself in a death trance. So, this was day one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. I'm back with the..."meat" of the story. Or at least, that's what I consider it. Chapter two, where we get into in-depth descriptions of Nico's time in the jar. As I said before, this was probably my favorite chapter to write. Hope you like it!**

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Day two wasn't much better. He was asleep for most of it of course, and even when he was awake, it was only to pop in another seed and put a second scratch on the wall. He could feel the oxygen depleting, being replaced by the carbon dioxide that he was breathing out. The air was slowly turning poisonous. He could feel this even though he was barely breathing, he was only awake for a few minutes, and it was the second day out of seven. He didn't have long.

Day three was progressively worse. He could barely open his eyes when he awoke. His hand trembled whenever he moved it. It was a difficulty to pick up the seed between his fingers. There was considerably less air, but he was still conscious enough to know that it wasn't as bad as it could be. He would have already been dead if he hadn't been in his death trance.

Day four was as bad as to be expected. His breath was coming in ragged gasps even when he was awake. His sword was gone, which is probably why he sensed a little more oxygen in the small jar. The twins must have opened it and taken it out. He didn't even care enough anymore to question why. They may have bought him a few more hours, but it may not be enough. And it still wasn't enough air by far.

Day five passed in a haze. His heart was still pounding, and his chest still felt terribly constricted. His vision was dark and blurry, making it hard to pick up the tiny seed. He had forgotten why he was doing this and why he was there, but there was still some kind of instinctive, subconscious part of him that told him to do it, and he at least knew to trust that part since he was too out of it to trust his conscious mind at the moment. Where were Percy and the others? He couldn't last much longer.

Day six seemed surreal, barely there. He couldn't tell if anything was real anymore. He felt heavy and clumsy, his brain filled with a fog. The air was mostly carbon dioxide at this point, but he didn't know that. His chest was barely rising and falling. His head was lolling forward, his dark hair falling into his glazed eyes, and his arm felt like a giant, heavy club as it fumbled around for the tiny seed. He no longer had the strength to lift his head to look for it. He had barely put himself back in his death trance before he passed out.

Day seven might as well have not have even existed. He couldn't even open his eyes anymore. He couldn't think much anymore, just process things. He knew that he hadn't been saved yet. He knew that he was slowly running out of air. He knew that he barely had any time left. He knew that he was probably going to die here. And that was about it.

His heart was fluttering weakly as it tried to pump any oxygenated blood left through his body. His body was heavy and limp. He could barely feel anything anymore. His mind was disconnected and seemed to be wrapped in a dark mist. His breathing was faint and forced, and it felt so easy to just stop. It felt so easy to just let go now, to just sink into the familiar darkness that his father ruled over. He knew what would happen if he did. It wouldn't be so bad.

But he knew he had to hang on. He knew Percy and Hazel and all of the others would never forgive themselves if they came here and found his corpse instead of him. Even though it was not their fault, they would still blame themselves. It was just who they were. He would be the same. In fact, he _is_ the same. He still couldn't get over Bianca's death.

Bianca…

If he died now, he would be able to see his sister. But there was another sister that needed him now. He could see Bianca later. His time with Hazel was limited as it was.

So, with shaking, clumsy hands, he picked up the last seed and slipped it inside his mouth. He pushed himself into the deepest trance possible without actually dying and was wrapped in darkness for perhaps the final time. His last thought was bleak.

Unless the Seven got to him first with their giant Greek warship, he would be riding in a different boat in a few hours.

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 **aronimac: Hi. Nope. Chapter one is shorter, I believe. Did I do better on elaborating this time? And personally, I think he would have been in shock. Things would have been moving really fast for him to really process it. And he was pretty broken (from both Tartarus and previous experiences), so his emotions would have probably been off. He would have had to guard himself against certain emotions to avoid getting hurt further. And hey, that's cool too. Character development is an important part of writing. Oh, well, I'm sorry if I didn't "pull you in" enough. I'm still working on writing and developing my style and all that. Acne? Well, having dealt with that personally...I don't know what to say. No, I don't mind at all :). I'm trying to bring new ideas to the table as well as adding my own twist to old, used ideas. And yeah, I try to make things clear so that people don't just get confused and leave. I know what it's like to have no idea what I'm reading and just become annoyed with it, no matter how good it is. And it's okay to be insecure and stuff about reviewing, man. It's all good.**

 **theblackqueen1: Thank you. *bows* Me too. And since Rick probably isn't going to write it himself...well, that's what fanfiction is for. You're very welcome. And thank you again. I try really hard on those, but they never seem to come out how I planned (which can be good or bad). I kept worrying people would think it was weird and super choppy and confusing. Here you go!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Look what I found in my Doc Manager! And so, this story comes to an end. Hope you guys enjoyed it. I know I did.**

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Nico knew he was close. He could feel his body shutting down and his consciousness drifting away. He was floating above his body now. He had run out of time.

He watched himself curiously. He was unmoving. He was barely breathing, and once in a while, his breathing would hitch and stop before starting again. He could see the exhaustion lining each of his features. His little prison practically stank of death. And this time, it wasn't just because of his mere presence.

He drifted through the walls of the jar. There were the Giants. And there was Percy and Jason and Piper. His father had told him about the three that had arrived at Camp Half-Blood in place of Percy, Hazel, and Frank, but it was completely different seeing them in person.

The demigods were talking to the Giants, probably trying to avoid violence. That was smart, but they didn't have time to exchanged pleasantries. They might not have any time at all.

Finally, one of the twins knocked over the bronze jar, and the lid came off. His body tumbled out, completely motionless. He could feel the strength returning to his body as oxyg

en rushed into his deprived lungs. He gave a sigh of relief. He had thought they were too late. He still wasn't out of the woods yet, but there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

He was plunged back into his body as soon as it was strong enough to pull him back and hold him there. He was also thrust back into unconsciousness.

He woke up some time later. He was still weak and groggy, but he could feel energy being restored in him. His eyes fluttered open, and there they were. The three half-bloods were fighting the twin Giants and their "pets."

His eyes scanned the room. He hadn't gotten a good look at the room before. There were cages and props, and they were definitely underground. What were they under though?

He tried to stand or at least do something useful. But he was still too tired. He had to just lie there and watch everything happen. He was helpless.

The next several minutes were a flurry of color and motion that his weary, shattered mind couldn't keep up with. He simply let everything happen, trusting his friends because he had no other choice.

After a period of time, he was lying on a bed, still worn out like never before. He hadn't processed everything so far, and he was yet to feel real emotions. That would come in the morning. But for now, he was just glad that he could lie in a real bed for the first time in a long time and sleep.

As his eyes slipped closed, he felt grateful. He was grateful that this was real sleep and not passing out or a death trance or whatever. He was grateful that he was out of Tartarus and out of that airless jar. He was grateful that he was surrounded by friends, even if two of them were gone and condemned to the same fate he had just gone through. He was grateful that there was no imminent life-threatening danger at this moment.

He was grateful he was alive.

The son of Hades took a deep breath and felt himself relax. This was the first time in what seemed like forever that he could finally relax. This was the first time in what seemed like forever that he could finally breathe. He had been searching relentlessly for the Doors of Death. He had been running and fighting for his life in Tartarus. He had almost suffocated in a bronze jar. He felt like he was just now getting out of that prison, just now taking his first breath. It wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. But he was out of the giant metaphoric jar that had kept him without air, without a break, for a long time now.

He had felt like he couldn't breathe for such a long time.

Now, Nico felt like he was no longer breathless.

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 **luna: Thank you. And here is the finale.**


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